helping Lissa to forget, if only for a few minutes, that one of her friends had just died.
A cock deflator if ever he’d heard one.
Holding Lissa in his arms, kissing her, had brought back in vivid detail the night they had spent together. An incredible night of unrestrained passion and lust.
The same inappropriate lust that consumed him now, when Lissa had turned to him for comfort, not passion.
“I think your cat likes me after all,” he murmured as he looked down at the feline slinking in and out between his ankles.
“Or he’s just lulling you into a false sense of security before he attacks,” she mocked.
“I— Ouch!” Ash glared down at the cat as he proved Lissa correct by digging his claws into Ash’s shin.
“Naughty boy.” Lissa chuckled as she bent to pick the cat up and cradle him in her arms. “You’ll protect me, won’t you, Sherlock?” She tickled the cat under its chin.
Was that a look of triumph Ash could see in the feline’s eyes as it stretched its neck into the caress? A who is she holding in her arms now, buddy look?
Jesus, even Lissa’s cat instinctively disliked him.
“I’ve said what I came to say,” Ash bit out impatiently. “Liam is downstairs, but once I leave, he’ll come and stand guard in the hallway outside your apartment. If you need to go out, he’ll accompany you. Someone else will take over from him tonight.”
“You?”
“No.” After what had happened between the two of them just now—for Ash it had been a reaffirmation of the desire he still felt for Lissa—it was just as well it wasn’t him. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself to stand guard outside her apartment all night. “My brother Ethan.”
“Does he look like you?”
“Why?”
“Just curious.”
Ash didn’t trust the innocent expression in those topaz-colored eyes. “Yes, Ethan looks like me, but his eyes are hazel green rather than this weird color I have.”
Lissa nodded. “No doubt you’ll be busy continuing to protect my mother?”
“That’s the plan.” Although Ash had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from checking in with Liam and Ethan on a regular basis.
She nodded. “If you could let me know the details of Harvey’s funeral once you have them…?”
“Sure.” He nodded abruptly. “Do you want to go and visit your mother now?”
“Did she ask me to?”
“No.” He frowned at this complete lack of familial feeling between mother and daughter.
“Then I won’t.” Lissa shrugged. “My mother doesn’t like surprises.” Any more than she did. Learning her mother had been shot and Harvey killed, and then sharing those passionate kisses with Asher had been more than enough shocks and surprises for one day.
“Fine.” Ash accepted. “I’ll be going, then.”
She nodded. “Thank you for…for taking the time to tell me about Harvey.”
“No problem.” Someone had to, when her own mother had chosen not to do so.
“Do you have something to add, Mr. Knight?” Claudia Reynolds’s voice was as cool and composed as always, despite the fact Ash had just told her how upset Lissa had been that morning when he informed her of Harvey Stein’s death.
For the first time ever, Ash found himself starting to dislike the principal he was being paid to protect. As for Malcolm Arnold, her little prick of a personal assistant…
Everything about the other man irritated Ash, his boyishly handsome appearance, the smirk that seemed to constantly curve his lips, but most especially his sycophantic deference to Claudia. Ash was pretty sure if the woman told the other man to lie down on the floor while she walked over him in her stiletto heels, the little fucker would do it. The man had a serious case of heroine worship going on.
Despite Malcolm’s only being thirty or so, and his appearance slightly effeminate—slender build, height just under six feet, slicked back blond hair, designer-label suit, handmade Italian leather shoes—Ash suspected the
Jean-Pierre Alaux, Noël Balen